


Full-Figured

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Reader, Female Reader NSFW, Female Reader SMUT, John Winchester NSFW, John Winchester SMUT, NSFW, Smut, Supernatural smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-conscious reader is full-figured and has had a crush on John Winchester ever since meeting. Turns out, John feels the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full-Figured

Knuckles rapped on the door, “Y/N, you comin’?”

“Gimme a minute.” John pushed away from the door, mumbling something about how he’d already given you fifteen.

It wasn’t your fault, not really. You just didn’t like the way the dress clung to your hips and breasts. Not that you technically hated your body, but your stomach was soft, your hips and thighs were full, and your breasts… well, let’s just say that the shirts you bought were always a size larger than you really needed.

The shirt dress you got at the thrift store was washed-too-many-times soft, yet the color looked as if it were brand new; crimson red with small white flower blossoms sprinkled throughout. You had to wear a white tank underneath because there was no way in hell you could snap all the buttons. No jewelry, it only got in the way, and you decided to let your hair air dry, showcasing the natural wave it held. Brown cowboy boots and apple red stain on your lips were the last things to be applied.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, John was facing away from you; his shoulders slumped as he talked on the phone, “No, no, it’s a good thing.”

You were tucking some hair behind your ear when he turned. His eyes went wide at the sight of your usually hidden skin, “Yeah, I’m here.”

With furrowed brows, you whispered, “Everything ok?”

He nodded once, “See you in the mornin’, son.”

You waited until he dropped the phone onto the table, “What was that about?”

“Boys said they took care of it.”

“Oh, ok,” there was no hiding the disappointment in your tone. Not that you were actually looking forward to being the bait again, but you weren’t going to deny that it felt good to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt, eat someplace other than a skeezy bar. “I’ll uh… just get changed.”

He muttered under his breath as you turned on your heel, the scrape of his hand along his face being the only sign that he hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

You turned back to face the eldest Winchester, “What?”

Chocolate eyes snapped up, “Nothin’.”

“No. No, you said something and judging by the way you can’t stop rubbing the back of your neck, it was something you didn’t want me to hear.”

“You know me too well, darlin’,” he smirked at you and it felt like someone lit a flare in your belly.

Ever since you’d been hunting with the Winchesters, almost three years now, you’d had a crush on John. A crush you’d actually been able to keep secret. Sure, Dean and Sam caught you staring at their father a few times and tried teasing you about it, but you blamed it on zoning out. Besides, it’s not like anything would happen with John, he was older than you. Not by that many years, but enough that you knew the attention it could draw; especially from Dean and Sam.

Swallowing hard, you stepped closer to him, which was probably a bad idea considering you were now close enough that you could smell… everything that was John Winchester. Leather, gunpowder, dirt, the remnants of spicy cologne; it made you squeeze your legs together.

“Then you know I won’t give up until you tell me what you said.”

He huffed out a hot breath, fanning it against your exposed chest, “I asked you not to change.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” it was his turn to take a step, biting his bottom lip as he did, “I like the way you look in this dress.”

You tried to focus on your breathing, to keep it nice and steady, but your lungs weren’t having it, “You do?”

His lips curled into a smile, “Course I do. Why are you looking at me like I grew another head?”

The typical negative self-esteem mantra started playing in your head, so you crossed your arms over your belly and went to take a step back. Why would he say something like that to you? He didn’t… couldn’t like you like that, could he?

John grabbed your elbow, sweeping his thumb back and forth, “What’s goin’ on?”

Goosebumps flared to life under his calloused fingertip as it drug along your skin. Your eyes fell closed and you pulled in a deep breath, “John… please.”

You heard him take that last step, felt the brush of his open flannel against your forearm, and then his hand was on your cheek, “Please, what?”

His breath was hot against your mouth and that’s when more of your resolve crumbled. You leaned into his touch, wavering on your feet as your senses became flooded with John. You opened your eyes and found lust blown pupils staring back at you.

“Kiss me, John.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” His mouth was on yours a fraction of a second later, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before sharp teeth nipped at it.

You pushed up to your toes and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down as the kiss deepened. He tasted like cigar smoke and cinnamon, whiskey and hops; everything you dreamt he would.

John’s hands dug into your lower back and ass, moaning into your mouth when you arched into him. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt; nails drug through the patches of charcoal hair on his stomach and chest.

You stared at him as he removed the shirt; seeing John half-naked wasn’t anything new. There had been many nights where you stitched and bandaged, reset dislocated shoulders and fingers. But seeing him like this; staring at you with every muscle twitching in anticipation, his chest heaving, the scars shining in the dim light, hunger in his eyes; it was almost too much.

He licked his kiss swollen lips and tucked some hair behind your ear, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“No, it’s not that.”

His hands were on your face, thumbs sweeping over your temples, “Then what’s goin’ on? And don’t tell me it’s nothin’. I can practically hear those gears workin’.”

Your hands had fallen to his waist, so you slid your fingers into his belt loops, “It’s just… me. I… I’m-”

John knew where this was going; you thought you weren’t pretty enough, thin enough… anything enough. You had always talked a good game, but as soon as someone gave you a compliment, you brushed it off with a laugh or roll of your eyes.  

He kissed you, swallowing the negative words. With his forehead on yours, his hot breath thickened the air between you, “You are gorgeous.”

When you rolled your eyes, he stood tall, a dark look in his eyes. He drug a finger down the column of your neck, into the hollow between your collarbones, and, with his bottom lip between his teeth, down your chest. It settled into the line where your breasts met and proceeded to drag it ever so softly along the top of your tank. He didn’t say anything, not yet, just watched as your breath hitched in your throat and goosebumps spread like wildfire.

With two hands, he slowly unsnapped the first button. Then the next, and the next until he reached the last one just below your belly button. Your hands fell from his waist as he pushed the dress from your shoulders, sliding his arms along your silky skin. The dress didn’t fall to the floor like it should have, rather, it stuck to your hips.

You were about to groan, because of course it wouldn’t fall to the floor, when he arched a brow and shook his head. He tugged the tank over your head and sucked in a breath at the sight of your full, black lace covered breasts.

He bent at the waist and dropped open mouth kisses to the swell of your breasts, humming against your skin as he palmed them, your nipples pebbling under his touch. John pressed his nose into them and pulled in a deep breath before kneeling in front of you.

“So fucking gorgeous,” his words were muffled by your skin. “I’m gonna make you see how gorgeous you are.” John’s beard bit into your belly as he kissed and nuzzled it. It should have tickled; it did anything but that.

Heat shot straight to your core, dampening your panties even more than they were before. You bit your bottom lip and looked down at the charcoal hair that had started to curl because he hadn’t had it cut in a couple of months.

John slid his fingers into your dress and pushed it over your hips. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at you, “Jesus, baby.”

Any reservations you had about John seeing you naked, all but vanished at the sincerity in his eyes. You reached back and unclasped your bra, taking a deep breath before the lace and satin fell away, dropping to the floor at your side. You toed off your boots and slid your panties over your hips. Once they passed the widest point, they fell to the floor with an almost silent swish.

And yet, John didn’t move. He stayed there and drug his eyes over every imperfect inch. Finally, when you were beginning to get nervous he would realize how bad of an idea this was, he grabbed your hips and started kissing your belly again.

Your head fell back at the bite of callouses and hair. He kissed his way up your body, lavishing some much needed attention to your breasts. The weight of them in his hands pulled an obscene moan from him that sent a shudder down your spine.

“John… please.”

“Please, what, baby?”

You grabbed his hair at the base of his neck and pulled, “Fuck me.”

He was off the floor and had your legs around his waist faster than you could blink. All the years of hunting, digging up graves, and working on the Impala and truck gave John strength that took your breath away; it was as if you weighed nothing.

Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he laid you on your back, covering your body with his while you kissed. John ground his hips, digging the button fly into your clit. You growled against his tongue and grabbed his ass, pulling him harder as you rutted against him.

John stood, dragging his lips and hands along your body as he went, and started to unbutton his jeans.

You sat up and pushed his hands away, “Let me.” When he didn’t stop you, your lips curled in a wicked smile as you slowly popped each button. The denim slid down dark haired, thick thighs, but your attention was on the bulge in his black boxer briefs. You hooked your fingers into the top of them and pushed them down, making sure they didn’t get caught on his cock.

The graze of your fingers on his seeping tip made John hiss. He watched through hooded eyes as you gripped him at his base and pumped him languidly, the wide vein on the underside of his cock pulsing hard against your hand. It was difficult not to stare, he was absolutely… beautiful. Grey and charcoal hair surrounded the base of his long, thick cock. The velvet soft cock-head was wide enough that your pussy clenched in anticipation.

You looked up at him and drug the tip of your tongue through the slit, moaning at the bittersweet tang of his pre-cum. When you wrapped your lips around him and began sucking, he tangled his fingers in your hair and worked you back and forth, slow then fast then slow again; grunting each time he hit the back of your throat.

John’s head fell back and with a growl of your name, he pulled your head back, “I don’t wanna cum in your pretty mouth, darlin’.”

The already low timbre of his voice was even deeper and you weren’t sure if you cared that you couldn’t suppress the throaty moan that spilled out. When you didn’t lie back as he knelt on the bed between your thighs, he pushed on your shoulders. You fell back with a giggle, your breasts and belly jiggling should have made you self-conscious, but it didn’t.

You ran your hands into your hair and pulled it to one side while John crawled up your body, the head of his cock brushing against your thighs as you parted them. His eyes were dark, promising you a good time without saying it.

John took himself in a hand and spread your slick over his wide head, pushing it between your soaked lips to the point of resting just inside your entrance, “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”

Moment of truth, “Always, John.”

He smirked and pressed into you agonizingly slow, which was probably a good thing considering his girth. Your back arched as you took him in, stretching around him to the point pain ate at the edges of pleasure. His lips were on yours when he was fully seated, whispering, “I’ve wanted you from the minute I saw you.”

“Me, too,” you hissed as his hips twitched, barely containing how badly he wanted… needed to feel every inch of you.

He started slow, rocking his body with yours, pulling out an inch before thrusting back in, and repeating the process until there was a slap of his balls against your ass with every thrust. John was panting against your neck, moaning how wet and tight you were, how fucking perfect every inch of your body was, how he couldn’t wait to make you cum.

The coil in your belly wound tighter with every thrust, every brush of his cock-head against the one spot that would make you fall apart at the seams. You drug your nails down his back, angry red welts rising amidst the scars. Higher and higher he pushed you until finally, with a burst of static in your ears and your vision gone white, you came screaming his name.

He wasn’t far behind you, biting down on your pulse point when you clamped around him like a vice, fluttering and pulsing. His shoulders bowed as he thrust again and again and again, finally cumming, his hoarse voice muffled in the crook of your neck.

John rolled to his side, pulling you with him and throwing your leg around his waist. You were both breathing heavily, faces and chests red, skin and hair sweat-slicked, and you couldn’t help think that he had never looked better. He rested a hand on your hip and kissed you sweetly.

Sighing into the kiss, you slid your knuckles along his jaw, “Careful, Winchester. You’re gonna spoil a girl with all this attention.”

He chuckled, smirking lopsidedly, “Oh, you’ve got my full attention now, darlin’. I ain’t letting you go.”


End file.
